


Est-Ce Que Tu Aimes Le Sexe

by Listen_Chuckles



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: Glaringly obvious cocksucking, Implied D/s, Implied subspace, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 07:11:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5996409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Listen_Chuckles/pseuds/Listen_Chuckles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Partition featuring Mike and Harvey</p>
            </blockquote>





	Est-Ce Que Tu Aimes Le Sexe

**Author's Note:**

> So I was listening to Partition by Beyonce and this was what popped into my head but probably a little more subtle. 
> 
> Honestly, I just wanted to picture Harvey say "Driver roll up the partition please." It was a religious experience. 
> 
> The title is from Partition by Beyonce.

Mike squirmed.

Partially because of the tuxedo he’d been dressed in for tonight’s most prestigious events. He looked good in a tux, all of his best features are accented, and the bow tie is always a winner, but that never accounts for how stiff they are. No matter how expensive and _silky_ René manages to find the materials, no matter how fitted and clean cut, they never get any less stiff.

He’s also squirming because of the award ceremony he and Harvey are attending. Because he’d be around lawyers – big and small – and they all went to Harvard, Columbia, Berkeley, Yale and everyone knew everyone. Of course Mike had studied the records, taken Harvey’s word literally when he off-handedly commented on knowing everyone and no one at the same time. Of course he’d memorised every face in every yearbook; even gone as far as to note the quote of every person too, the show off that he was. It didn’t mean that Mike doesn’t have reason to be nervous. He’s nervous enough to squirm.

There’s another reason he’s squirming – it makes sense really since this isn’t something they do very often, this is public – Harvey, his boss, and more recently _more_ , is staring at him in a way that should probably be burning holes right through his jacket and shirt and setting his skin on fire only to burn right through that too.

Mike was trying to avoid it, to stop anything from happening because it always gets too much, goes too far and he can deal with that but not – _not_ – right now. But Harvey’s stare is stronger than any willpower Mike has against it. It started out a just a feeling on the side of his face, heat, and when he looked around to catch the stare the first time he couldn’t resist the second and third, forth, fifth. Before he knows what happened he’s staring back at Harvey with the same intensity and Harvey’s moving closer across the back seat of the car until his breath collides with Mikes ear.

Mikes eyes slip shut as a hand grips his thigh not short of bruising and the breaths turn into vibration as Harvey starts to talk.

“You should wear a tux more often,” it’s low and hot in his ear. “In fact, I’d pay good money to make sure you were never out of one.”

Harvey’s hand slipped further round Mikes thigh, his grip still tight but now higher up and on the inside of his leg, the same leg that was instinctively pushing towards Harvey, to spread Mike out for him. Even now, in the back of the car.

Mikes bottom jaw goes lax and drops open, his eyes still closed, his chest heaving slightly with small almost laboured breaths. Harvey was talking again, but not to him.

“Driver? Roll up the partition please.”

Mike opened his eyes to watch the black, not quite soundproof board in front mechanically climb it’s way up the window until it clicked and locked and they found themselves almost alone.

One of Harveys hands had found its way to the back of Mikes neck, squeezing gently, massaging, and Mike sighed.

“I want you on your knees for me, Mike, can you do that?” His voice taking an almost dangerous edge.

Mike was already nodding and shifting forward so the hand on his thigh moved higher and was practically cupping his crotch. He held back the needy whine choosing instead to push the older mans hand off and take his place where he was wanted.

He was almost glad of the carpeted floor in the space purely for the sake of the knees on his trousers, he was also glad there was enough space to manoeuvre freely as he moved around Harvey to crawl in between his legs and take his position. Harveys favourite position.

Harvey took hold of his chin in one hand and looked into his eyes, asking a thousand different questions, the only answer Mike could find was ‘ _yes_ ’ and he could only hope that that message got through as his focus shifted to his boss’s crotch that was now tightly packed in a restricted space.

His hand trembled as he handled the fabric trousers, wanting to be fast but somehow knowing this would all be taken away in a second if anything got creased. He popped the button and unhooked the zipper, pulling gently so Harvey had to lift up to let them down a little.

Mike flushed high on his cheeks when he shuffled forward further till his knees hit the seat and pressed his nose into Harveys hip, the smell of him still prominent through the “dry clean” smell on his clothes. Harvey is hard and pressed against his cheek and Mike could quite easily take root in this exact spot and never move again.

Unfortunately, Harvey has different ideas and makes no qualms about it, his hand fisted in Mikes hair, the other pushed at his shoulder, egging him on, not wanting to be bathed in attention but buried in Mikes mouth.

The sharp intake of breath was loud to Mikes ears when he seals his lips around the head and laves his tongue over the slit. That breath was the encouragement Mike needed, all it took for Mike to want to sink down and take Harvey so far in that he gags around him and his eyes well up so much it’s impossible to stop the tears from spilling.

So he does.

And the tears roll down his face and slide into the sides of his mouth even though he can’t physically contain anymore. He’s bursting at the seams and everything is wet. The sounds that his mouth makes are obscene and louder in his own head and they’re all he can focus on until Harvey is pulling and twisting at his hair. And then he’s groaning. And Mikes eyes are rolling back into his head before they slide closed.

“Mike? Mike, look at me. Look up here.” Harvey sounded as though he’d let most -if not all- of his self control go. His voice cracked and broke, his breath, uneven and an inconspicuous moan slips out when Mike sucks on the head of his cock again so he can open his eyes and meld his stare into Harveys.

They’re both cracked wide open, a stare that goes deeper than this raw, sexual thing they have. It’s a bond that’s been tapped into.

Harvey nods minutely. Not breaking that link. Voice still broken when he tells Mike that he’s going to fuck his mouth.

“You’re gonna stay still?” his thumb pets at Mikes cheek idly.

Mikes answer is to blink slowly, still sucking, tongue darting out every so often. Yes. Harvey carries on.

“Stay just like that, you’re perfect. Perfect.”

And then his hips snap. Only a fraction. Probably less than and inch further into Mikes mouth. The kind of movement that would normally drive them both crazy because it’s not enough. Because when Harvey fucks – anything – it’s not half hearted. It’s all or nothing. But right now, in the back of a car, where cameras are starting to flash in the windows, where the car is driving sow enough through hoards of people that the cameras may just pick up more than they bargained for through the blackout screens, it’s more than enough.

It’s enough to make Harvey clench his fist so tight in Mikes hair that his scalp burns. His other hand tightens on his shoulder and his hips are just rocking aimlessly, still letting Mike do the hard work.

Mike drops down again, swallowing around the head repeatedly to gain control of his reflexes. Harvey’s coming. He’s coming down Mikes throat until he can’t take it and even then he’s coming on Mikes shirt, his thighs are clenched and tight in all the right places and his hips continue to sway as though they never want to stop and Mike just waits. Revels in this level of power he has over Harvey right now. Ignoring the throb and pull of his own sex.

“Mi-Mike, Jesus kid,” Harvey is still panting when he can finally speak again. He looks down at Mike. Into Mike. He laughs.

“You alright?” He’s asks the younger man, closing his face between both his hands.

Mike nods as best he can, licking his lips and swallowing hard. He’s unable to talk, almost insensible, but there, with Harvey. Harvey nods and kisses his forehead, humming with affection. Mike closes eyes and floats. He doesn’t know how long for.

“The show’s gotta go on, Mike, come on.”

Harvey starts to make Mike look presentable again, wincing when he sees what a mess he made of his hair, that a button is hanging limp off the bottom of his shirt, that there’s come clinging to the fibres that will definitely be visible to the cameras.

They both make a sight for sore eyes and Harvey isn’t the slightest bit ashamed of it and Mike may be out of it but there’s pride in his eyes when they meet the camera lenses.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a few ideas to turn this into a series so please let me know because the next one is already in progress. My apologies if this is awful.


End file.
